One time when I was very little, I met a little boy.
See, we decided if it would be cool to trade brains.
We thought about it,
And we set up this whole day.
We planned for months and months and months,
Got to know each other, you know, the basics of any relationship.
We told secrets and showed each other the things that were important to us.
I thought he was a pretty nice kid.
Under the neon colors and plastics of elementary school, we waited for the day to come when we’d trade brains.
But for some reason, time decided to speed up and we missed our date, and instead went to his soccer game.
Neon elements faded to concrete and metal middle school, which shifted instantly to jail-like high school.
We still tried to talk to each other.
You know, kid stuff.
“I miss you a lot” from me, and “I don’t like you anymore Jackie” from him.
You know, the regular stuff.
I found his cell phone number recently and (from the depths of my bedroom) decided to reach out to the nice little boy who…maybe…“Still want to trade brains? Hu?” I squawked into my shiny cell phone.
“Jackie, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you. I have a girlfriend and a life now. Stop bugging me about your stupid brain trade and leave me the hell alone!”
But he wasn’t the same.
Time, again, decided to speed things up.
Years had passed.
I saw him under the fluorescent lights of the local Vons the other day,
And I stopped and starred.
I drifted out of my stupor and noticed he was doing the same. “He’s a man now, not a little kid,” I tell myself.
“Hey. I wanted to talk to you.” He put a can of turkey chili into his basket. He walked deliberately over to me, and stopped dead in front of me. And with a serious demeanor, asked,
“Still up for trading brains?”
2/5/09
Add your comment
You need to login or signup to add your comment to this work.